The OIOIONIC undoes everything. The secret of desire is that there is nothing to desire. But how can that have any meaning before it's too late? The secret is that it's already too late. There is too much in the way, so to begin is impossible, and there is no place to land, so no ending is possible. But if we just step back for a moment - and I mean way back - further back than the perspective of eternity, which, after all, is only about half way back: Human beings are yearning for some kind of system or structure at a certain point in their lives - and then after that point it is too late. A window closes, and they are no longer able to absorb something new, a new core conviction. The thing about the furthest-back perspective is that is is also the closest-up. Intersubjectivity, history, ethics, politics constellate the field of reality, but they are foreclosed to anyone who is unwilling to sacrifice their knowledge of the true reality, which is private, surging pain, bleary red eyes, the magic of the blood. To think the eschatological as a vast array of small packets bubbling with bits of energy, opening up just a little bit so that they can close a moment later. It draws tears from the blood-heart even as its vision drifts up into the cotton...